don't blink yet
by lilypads
Summary: they're all about the coffee and the splendour. —sasukesakura


**disclaimer**: does not own.  
**dedication**: to those of us who still belief in sasusaku  
**notes**: i have a thing for angst and coffee  
**notes2**: as you can probably tell.  
**notes3**: but who cares cos its cute riiiiiiight

**chapter title**: don't blink yet  
**summary**: they're all about the coffee and the splendor. —Sasuke/Sakura.

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They're floating and falling and falling and suspended in mid-air, because he doesn't want to drop and she's never been fond of gravity anyway.

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There's a pungent aroma of coffee beans and dusty books, an eerie afterglow of candles flickering and voices that lull in and out of tune. In this quaint tea shop, just on the outskirts of the village, Sakura sits with a cup that has long since stopped steaming. Her dainty finger trails the rim, an unconscious habit of her rapidly mounting nerves.

She hasn't been here — in this seat, in this shop, in this village — in so long, that it feels like a distant memory, flooding her system and bringing back fresh waves of nostalgia.

Of quirks of lips and soft, bubbly laughter; of a pair of eyes that were blacker than the night sky, and of simple, subtle affections.

Back then, she had not realised the weight of growing up (_had she really been gone that long?_) and goodness, she missed the way a book and a cup of latte would soothe her into tranquillity. With the pacing hours these days, her only relieve from stress was the longest nap and two paracetamol's — she was her mothers daughter, in every sense of the word.

And _god _did it depress her considerably.

Three years — it had been three years since she had packed up her bags, since she had stood at the train station and waved goodbye to friend and foe. To her mother, who wept and wept and wept; to Naruto who couldn't decide whether to cry or smile, and ended up doing both, which resulted in his features turning overly constipated. And... to Sasuke.

Who had his hands shoved so deeply in his pockets, she was sure they'd come out the other end. He didn't look much different — a placid and stony expression, dark and ominous eyes that hadn't let her in, not ever, and a posture that could put a ballerina to shame. He barely looked nonplussed, perhaps even rather indifferent, and it had torn her completely apart.

She had said goodbye, sworn it was the last time — made a _promise _that _really, Sakura, he's not worth your time. _

But it seems she couldn't even keep to own vow, because when push came to shove (and where Sasuke was involved) she would break every tie, smash every promise to herself and shatter her own willpower — for him. Always for him.

Because if he wasn't worth her time, then she obviously didn't have a lot of time on her hands.

The _jingle _that ran out through the tea shop alerted her towards the door, as it opened, a gust of forceful air came with its occupant — Sasuke. He was wrapped in a coal trench coat, a scarf secured around his neck and hands shoved deep in coat pockets. He had gotten taller, considerably so, as he now looked to tower over her. His hair, she thought, had not changed at all.

The same two layers of hair that hung down, framing his jawline and of course, the back that stuck out in scattered and disarrayed frenzy. She knew he was the only male who could possibly pull this off — coupled with such a defined jaw, strong and aristocratic nose and sharp, pooling obsidian eyes. Uchiha Sasuke had always _always _been a sight to behold.

Sakura flustered at the picturesque scene that was before her — he was speckled in white snowflakes, they dusted his hair and melted into his fabric; he didn't look a day over twenty.

It was then that he caught her eye, green met black, and her heart went _thumpthumpthump_ in her ears, charging away like a stampede.

His gait was brisk, as he carried himself with the utmost authority and pride, towards her table that was tucked comfortably away, near the back.

She remained unmoving, feigning that she was not bothered by his arrival, when in fact every cell in her body was buzzing like a group of irritable, noisy wasps — she was so glad Sasuke wasn't able to hear them, nor her heartbeat. It was frantic at best.

"Sasuke-kun," and curse her for sounding so _breathless._

He nodded. Silent and subtle and unfathomable — no, he hadn't changed one bit.

Sasuke slipped off the coat, revealing a pristine white buttoned shirt that was tucked into a pair of smart trousers (which looked freshly pressed, no less). He sat down opposite her after folding the coat and laying it on the back of the chair, his back straight and his features impossible to discourage. They said nothing for all of five minutes.

Sakura thought he wasn't going to speak at all when — "Your hairs grown."

A simple observation — a fact, hardly a compliment. His eyes focused on the wisps of pastel pink that curled down to her collarbones, some strands looking more harried than others. When he had last seen her (boarding a train. Saying goodbye. Waving and leaving and _leaving_) her hair was short and unkempt. Sasuke thought he quite regretted seeing the back of it, for the last time._  
_

Her hand flew to her hair, subconscious and embarrassed, she blushed. "O-oh, yeah, it has," she murmured, smoothing down pieces, just to give her hands something to do — her latte was cold now. "Yours hasn't grown at all, I see."

"Hn,"

She shouldn't of been surprised by the lack of communication beyond pleasantries — shouldn't of been surprised by the lack of _anything, _but even after all this time, it still stung something horrible. She tried not to deflate, tried not to look affected by his apathetic attitude that always rubbed her the wrong way. But _god _it was so hard not to scream and shout that _fucking hell, Sasuke, couldn't you at least try to look happy?_

A few awkward moments later, and he finally called over a waitress. "One black coffee," he said, and she hardly recognized the polite tone he had taken on, "and one caramel latte — two sugars, extra milk."

Sakura looked at him — her eyes growing somewhat larger than was accustom (_had he just remembered her favourite drink?_) and he smirked. She didn't think it was possible that he could even remember, heaven knows she was under the impression he simply _did not care _but... what?

"Y-you remembered?" Her stutter went unnoticed as Sasuke shrugged, lacing his calloused hands together upon the table.

His nonchalance hardly registered, because all she could think was that _ohmigod, he remembered, he remembered, he bloody remembered! _and was this a revelation, or a miracle or just a hallucination? Sakura couldn't help but smile, her cheeks turning an impressive red and her stomach warming up from the gesture.

"So," he filled the silence, voice as sharp and attentive as always, "how is medic school?"

Sakura thought that perhaps, maybe, he was just being civilised — if he had wanted to know, couldn't he of just wrote? But... she had not tried to get in contact either. The only reason they were here now was because they had bumped into each other — quite literally — in the grocery store several days back. She had awkwardly suggested coffee, he had stiffly handed her his business card and from there... well, this was the result.

"It's great," she delved, pushing aside all worries and anxieties, "I'm really enjoying it — there's a hellova lot to learn, though. I can get through three cups of coffee in a day and still not have enough brain power to take in every single detail. But," she stopped, catching her breath — talking about her studies was easy, usually, but not when a pair of calculating eyes were sizing her up like a crow to its prey. Sakura took a breath, steadied herself, and proceeded, "but It's what I've wanted to do forever, so I won't give up easily."

Sasuke remained coolly silent, watching as her lips moved around each word — each syllable. She had this peculiar way of accentuating every word when she was nervous, like she was reading from a speech and trying to impress. Except, she was thinking aeons too far into it and sounding more translucent than authentic. He wouldn't deny that he found it rather endearing, the way she would fiddle with her skirt, or the hem of her top, or the rim of her cup, just to keep herself some semblance of calm.

"I see," Sasuke finally replied, smooth and detached.

She nodded, fervent and anxious. "I can only assume that from what Naruto has filled me in on, and that business card, that you've become the CEO of the Uchiha Industries? — that's excellent," she rambled, not really giving him a chance to say much of _anything. _"It must be awfully difficult to keep a company together, I'd imagine."

"Your observations have hit the mark," he said, sarcasm lilting his usually impassive tone, "but yes — being a CEO is particularly difficult, however, I was entrusted personally with the title and have thus far, made sufficient progress within the company."

Sakura was impressed. So impressed that she almost choked on her own spit — he had come so far, and where was she? Paying off a sky hight debt to her University and tailing jobs to become a Doctor. How, she thought, had she missed this much?

"_Wow,_" she breathed. "That's — that's incredible, Sasuke-kun."

Before either of them could discus further, their drinks were laid on the table, steaming hot and smelling absolutely magnificent. Sakura knew she would never bore of the smell of sweet caramel, frothy milk and espresso combined to create a truly beautiful concoction. What she found rather distasteful, though, was the bland and sour smell omitting from Sasuke's coffee cup.

She would never comprehend why he drank that crap.

Or how his teeth were still perfectly straight, and glistening white.

**—  
**

****The _crunchcrunch _of her boots upon the snow made her beam — she's always been fond of the snow, especially in Konoha.

All around them, there are children and adults and even some teenagers, enjoying the snow and she can hear them laughing and screaming and tearing through the thick blanket of white. Their battles cries echo, loud and clear, around her. She's reminded of the winters she used to spend outside — ice cold snowballs to the face and falling back first into a puff of snow, creating angels with Ino.

Hurling the biggest snowball towards Naruto and watching him flail and fall; laughing till she cried, wiping away tears that would turn to crystal had she not. Threatening to shove snow down Sasuke's pants, because he was such a fun sponge—

_Sasuke._

Sakura looked up at him behind hooded eyelashes that were rapidly collecting featherweight dusts of snow. He looked somewhat out of his element, staring out into the night, breath coming out in a cloud of visible air.

"Uhm," Sakura tried — she really did — to sound confident, but really, it was quite hard when faced with the master of a poker face to rival that of a statue. "Would you like to accompany me through the park?"

It was best to go with polite and casual in these situations, she found that if he _did _brush her off like a piece of snow, then maybe she wouldn't be as disappointed.

When he regarded her with a dark, raised eyebrow, she thought she may have pushed it too far.

They only had coffee, no biggie, Sakura, no need to turn this into something it's not, so why bother trying to ask anyway.

When he stalked forwards, she felt her body sag beneath the weight of rejection (how many times had she been met with this response?) and pushed away a stinging that — coupled with this god awful cliché — made her want to just bury herself in the snow and declare the end of her pitiful existence—

"Are you coming or not?"

Her eyes snapped to him, as his head was inclined towards her, eyebrow still cocked and some certified look of knowing in his eyes.

Sakura could feel it bubbling and swelling in the pits of her stomach — the feeling of _hope _that she had always clung to, it was thin and breakable, but it was there and that was all she needed to take some incentive. Sasuke was _yes_, still a brooding, self-assured and rather detached human being, but well, he was _still _a human being after all._  
_

She was just glad for this, because even though he was difficult, she wouldn't have him any other way.

And for the first time, Sakura was just glad to be back home.

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "I'm coming."

—

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**notes4**: this is perhaps not the happy ending i had planned, but jeesh, sasuke is so miserable and hard to write.  
**notes5**: review & what nots if you like, didn't like etc :')


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